Kilgorman Part 54

"Well, please yourself," said Captain Felton, who evidently did not care to discuss the matter. "That doesn't concern me, as long as you handle the _Gnat_ smartly and get into no sc.r.a.pes yourself. We can't afford to let private concerns interfere with the king's business."

Two days later all was ready, and, to my great relief, we weighed anchor and ran out of the bay with a brisk south-easterly breeze. The _Gnat_ proved an excellent sailer, and, fitted as she was with ten six- pounders, and manned by a crew of twenty smart hands, she was a formidable enough customer for any smuggler that had to reckon with her.

We put in at Larne in expectation of getting some news of the marauders we were in search of, but found none. We were, however, warned to keep our eyes open not only for smugglers, but for foreign craft which were said to be at the old business of landing arms for the Ulster rebels, who by all accounts were in a very red-hot state, and longing anxiously for the signal to rise. Indeed, so threatening did things appear generally that the authorities gave Captain Felton peremptory instructions to allow nothing to stand in the way of his communicating immediately to headquarters any intelligence (particularly as to the expected French landing) with which in the course of his cruise he might meet.

"This puts a boot on our other leg," said the captain to me that evening, as we watched the sunset light fade over Fair Head. "It seems to me collecting customs will be the least part of our business. Never mind. I'd sooner put a bullet into a rebel any day than into a poor beggar who tries to land a keg of whisky for nothing. Fortune send us either, though!"

It seemed as if this wish were not without reason; for though we cruised up and down for a fortnight, watching every bay and creek between Ballycastle and Sheep Haven, we came upon nothing but honest fisher craft and traders.

At last, to my relief--for I was growing impatient to hear news of my little mistress--Captain Felton bade me run the cutter into Lough Sw.i.l.l.y. And knowing my desire, he made an excuse to send me ash.o.r.e at Rathmullan for provisions, bidding me return within three days, unless I was signalled for earlier.

It was a Sunday morning when I found myself once more in the familiar inn at Rathmullan. I soon found that my host, who took little note of his customers, did not remember me; and he was civil enough now to one of his Majesty's lieutenants, and eager to execute my commissions for stores.

"Faith, sir," said he, "and it's some of us will be glad to see the luck back, for it's gone entirely since the troubles began."

"You mean the smuggling?" said I, by way of drawing him out.

"That and other things. These are bad times for honest folk."

As I knew the fellow to be an arrant harbourer of smugglers and rebels, I took his lamentation for what it was worth.

"Maybe you're a stranger to these parts, captain," said he presently, giving me another step in the service.

"I've heard something of them," said I. "I met a young fellow called Gallagher not long since, and he was talking of Lough Sw.i.l.l.y."

"Tim was it, or Barry?" asked the landlord, with interest.

"Are there two of them, then?"

"Faith, yes; and one's as black as the other's white. Tim, bless him!

is a rale gentleman and a friend to the people."

"Which means a rebel, I suppose. And what of Barry?"

"Bedad, he's a white-livered sneak, and he'd best not show his face in these parts. There's a dozen men sworn to have the life of him."

I laughed.

"It must have been Tim I spoke to, then, for he spoke well of you, and said you had some excellent rum in your cellar. Maybe he knew more about it than the Custom-House, eh?"

This put mine host in a flutter, and he vouched by all the saints in the calendar he had not a drop in the house on which he had not paid duty.

And as Tim Gallagher had mentioned the rum, would I be pleased to try a gla.s.s?

"Where is this Tim now?" I inquired, when the gla.s.ses were brought.

"'Deed, captain, that's more than I can tell you. He was wanted badly by the boys here, who chose him their captain for the turn-out that's to be; but it's said he's abroad on the service of the country, and we'll likely see him back with the Frenchmen when they come."

"Ah, you're expecting the Frenchmen, are you? So are we. I may meet this Tim Gallagher over a broadside yet."

"If you do, dear help you, for Tim's got a long arm, I warn you."

As I was about to go, I inquired,--

"By the way, you have a magistrate living somewhere near here, haven't you a Mr Gorman, whom I am to see on business."

The landlord's face fell.

"Ay. His honour's house is across the lough yonder at Knockowen. But you'll get little value out of him. He's a broken man."

"How broken?"

"Arrah, it's a long story. He's run with the hare and hunted with the hounds too long, and there's no man more hated between here and the Foyle. His life's not worth a twopenny-piece."

"Was he the man whose daughter was carried off?" I asked as innocently as I could.

"Who told you that?" said he, with a startled look. "Not Tim. If it had been Barry now, the scoundrel, he could have told you more of that than any man. Ay, that's he."

"Did he ever get her back?"

"'Deed, there's no telling. He says not a word. But he hangs every honest man that comes across him. I'd as soon swim from Fanad to Dunaff in a nor'-westerly gale as call up at Knockowen."

"Well," said I, with a laugh, "get me a boat, for I must see him at once, and take my chance of a hanging. Give me oars and a sail; I can put myself over."

So once more I found myself on the familiar tack, with Knockowen a white speck on the water-side ahead. What memories and hopes and fears crowded my mind as I slid along before the breeze! How would his honour receive me this time? Should I find Knockowen a trap from which I should have to fight my way out? Should I--here I laughed grimly--spend the night dangling at a rope's end from one of the beeches in the avenue? Above all, should I find Miss Kit there, or any news of her?

Then I gave myself up to thinking of her, and the minutes pa.s.sed quickly, till it was time to slip my sheet and row alongside the landing-stage.

"Halt! who goes there?" cried a voice.

"A friend," said I; "first officer of his Majesty's cutter _Gnat_, with a message from the captain to Mr Gorman."

"Pa.s.s, friend," said the sentry, grounding his gun with a clang.

"Ah," thought I, as I walked up the well-known path, remembering the half-hour I had been kept waiting at my last visit, "it's something to be an officer and a gentleman after all."

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

HIS HONOUR ESCAPES HIS ENEMIES AT LAST.

It was less than a year since I had seen Knockowen. But all seemed changed. Weeds and gra.s.s were on the paths, the flower-beds were unkempt, the fences were broken in places, damp stains were spread over the house front. Everywhere were signs of neglect and decay. Had I not known his honour to be a wealthy man, I should have supposed him an impecunious person with no income to maintain his property. As it was, there was some other cause to seek, and that cause I set down to the absence of Miss Kit.

Twice between the pier and the house I was challenged by sentries, and when I reached the door I noticed that the lower windows were shuttered and barred like those of a prison.

I announced myself to the servant who answered my summons as I had done to the sentinels, without giving my name, and was presently shown into his honour's room at the back of the house, which, as all the shutters were closed, was lit by candles, though it was still daylight.

I was shocked to see how Mr Gorman was changed. The sly, surly expression had given place to a hunted, suspicious look. His face was haggard and pale and his beard unkempt. He started at any little sound, and his mouth, once firm, now looked weak and irresolute. Worse still, there was a flavour of spirits about the room and the man which told its own tale, and accounted for his bloodshot eyes and shaking fingers as he looked up.